


The Opposite of Forever

by Niki



Category: Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic
Genre: Angst, Families of Choice, M/M, Post-Games, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-12
Updated: 2007-10-12
Packaged: 2018-01-06 23:38:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1112859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niki/pseuds/Niki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Admiral Onasi has a contained breakdown on the Anniversary of his wife's death, years after Revan left.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Opposite of Forever

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt in the long-dead LiveJournal community [kotor_challenge](http://kotor-challenge.livejournal.com/%20). Unpolished as I ran out of time for the challenge and then could never regain the mood again. (Fun fact: I was couple of pages into the story until I decided whether Revan was male or female – the name would work for both.)
> 
> Very teenaged and dramatic but I restrained myself to just fixing some typos and grammar things (posted in the archive 1/1/2014).

Hey, love.

You have now been dead longer than we were ever married. 

Would you still know me? 

Looking at myself in the mirror in the impersonal hotel room, a line of a song I heard years ago comes to my mind: 'I look a little bit older, I look a little bit colder'. Bit more grey in my hair, a few more wrinkles round my eyes, my mouth looks like I never smile. Would you still love me?

I'm not the man you married any more. Physically, almost half of me has been replaced. And the person that I am today...

I sometimes wonder, had you lived, would we still be married? Would we have survived the wars, my absences. Would I have been on That Mission, on that ship, had I still had you, and a reason to live beyond revenge?

What if I had met Revan when still married, would I still have fallen?

'Fallen'. My word choice makes me chuckle bitterly. Different kind of falling from the Jedi. Revan fell, and became a Sith. Then gained redemption as Daren.

And fell, again. For me.

The Jedi are not supposed to love. Attachments can be dangerous. Because the fear of losing will make you do foolish things.

Love isn't the problem, being unable to let go is.

Revan – Daren – never had that problem. No problem at all to leave me behind when duty called, when a bigger threat resurfaced.

I suppose I am a little bitter. Conceited, thinking that I should rate higher than the fate of the whole galaxy. But I felt, feel, I would have deserved an explanation, a goodbye.

"He didn't even say goodbye, he didn't take the time to lie."

This seems to be my day for quotations. Too many encouraging speeches for the troops.

Still looking at the mirror, I have to admit most of the changes are not visible. But I know every scar now hidden by my dress uniform. The place of every piece of metal. What lies behind my visor.

One assassination attempt too many took my eyes. Wonderful work they can do with implants these days. I see. But... the world looks colder. Bleaker. Emptier. But I don't suppose it really is because I see with the aid of technology, in the end.

My heart... Funny, seeing as he took it with him, what was in my chest that day to be damaged? 

My heartbeat is perfect now. Always controlled. Half of the muscle replaced with synthetic materials. 

But it still aches when I think of the past, the present, and... never the future. 

That hurts most of all.

My past. Childhood, Morgana, the Fleet, fatherhood, wars, love. The all-consuming passion and madness that was Daren. The pain that was his true identity. The joy of finding it in me to trust again. To love again.

To lose again.

Wish I could stop. Loving. Losing. 

Being a leader. How can I inspire people when I lost faith aeons ago? It used to be so simple. We were the good guys. We fought the good fight. Always defending ourselves against the other's attacks. Not so simple any more. The line between the enemies and allies has never been so blurry. And I don't feel like the good guy no more. Just another tired wreck doing his duty. 

Morgana, would you laugh or weep for me now? No one calls me by my name these days. I am Admiral Onasi to everyone from my aides to the random passers by. Dustil... Dustil doesn't talk to me. 

Mission is the only one who calls me 'Carth'. And it hurts too much to see her these days. Bastila is busy trying to rebuild the Order, and even she calls me Admiral when we meet. I call her Master Shan. Daren would laugh, the old Daren, who didn't know he was Revan, would have laughed his ass off at the thought.

Used to amuse me, too. But nothing amuses me these days. 

Not even the thought of Canderous as the new Mandalore. Or the fact that he ended up following another Jedi on a quest. I called her Exile, she called me Admiral. She travelled with T3 and HK-47, our trusted droid companions of many years, on the ship I thought of as ours.

Felt...wrong to see them with someone else. Especially knowing what it meant. 

Daren was alone. If he was even alive.

This was back when I still believed, in anything. So I asked her to... to tell Revan, Daren... tell him I was... waiting.

Waiting. Doing my job. Being consumed by it. 

Beep of my communicator. Am I late? No... that identification...

"Father."

"Dustil."

"I... I wanted to... It was today..."

I see pain in his eyes. Don't know what he sees in mine.

"I... miss her," he says, and I find myself unable to answer.

"Anyway," he goes on when I don't reply, "I just... I wanted to acknowledge the day somehow. And... you. I don't blame you, father. Not any more. Not for anything."

I... "Thank you," I get out. I wonder what I feel, if anything.

"Yeah. Well. I know you're busy, and everything..." he makes a gesture as if to severe the connection, and I find myself wanting to hold him longer, to...

"How are you doing, Dustil?" I ask quietly.

"Fine. I'm... fine. I'm with Master Shan in Coruscant. She sends her..."

"Something entirely appropriate, I'm sure." I find my old grin from somewhere, and feel alive for a second, there.

Dustil looks shocked, then answers with a grin of his own. He looks so young when he smiles. Our son. He, too, is older now, older than I was when we met, my sweet.

"Yes. Very." 

"Has she ever told you about our time on Taris?" I'm making conversation now? I'm making conversation now. 'Reconnecting' Bastila might say. I'm not going to ask her.

"How you, her and Revan crash-landed there and had to escape?"

"How she was captured by a local swoop gang and had to be rescued," I answer dryly, knowing he'll pester Bastila for the story now. 

"That seems to be another story entirely."

"You bet. Look, I... I'm glad to have spoken with you, son." And I mean it. "But I have to go. Tell Bastila I applaud her for taking my advice, and take care."

"Your advice?"

"About legends..." I let another grin tell him there's a story here, too.

"I love you, father."

Wow. Out of the blue. Feels like someone short-circuited my new heart.

"You too, son," I whisper, blinking for no reason because my new eyes don't dry, and the tear ducts are not connected.

"I miss her, too," I admit to the now silent machine.

Damn you. Damn you for making me...

I can still feel. I can still hurt.

My momentary weakness makes me punch in a familiar string of numbers.

"Carth!" Mission's voice is unwaveringly happy. My coldness over the years must have made her wary, yet she never shows it.

"I..." Why did I want to talk to her?

"I miss you," I choke out.

"Are you okay, Carth?" The concern in her voice and eyes makes my insides uncurl from the tight knot they've been in for years.

"No. I... Yes, don't worry. I'm not dying or anything. I just... I feel like I've been... Feel like spring, you know?" I say, then remember she has never lived on a planet where changing seasons had any meaning and might not understand my metaphor. "Like thawing," I clarify.

"What happened?"

"Morgana died today, a decade ago."

"Oh, I'm sorry. You should have told me, I would have been there."

"I didn't care."

She takes my admission in stride, like everything else I've failed to feel over the years.

"But... Dustil called me. And I..." I don't need to clarify that. She knows all about my strained relationship with my son. "But it just made me realise, you have always been more of a daughter to me than he a son, and I... Did I ever even tell you that?"

She blinks back tears, and smiles widely, the little urchin smile I remember so well from all those years ago.

"You never said the words," she says gently, "but you always told me clearly enough."

"I'm glad. I love you, Mission."

I don't think I've ever thought about it in those terms. I don't think I ever said the words. I feel... I _feel_ having said them. I feel glad.

"Love you too," she whispers back. "You're the only dad I've ever known, you know. And what you've thought me... so much more important than what my brother ever did."

"What, dual-wielding?" I grin for the second time in an hour, which is more than I have in the past decade, probably.

No, I am exaggerating, but usually that is only when I forget myself.

She grins back, wiping away the few escaped tears.

"Among other things. Where are you?"

"Another base, another parade, another motivational visit from the Republic hero," I mutter bitterly, stepping back to show off my uniform.

"Still look quite dashing in that. For an old guy."

"Why thank you, imp. I bet I'll make all the young girls swoon."

"And the young boys?" She smirks, but that just reminds me of the only man I ever loved, and the thought clouds my expression.

"Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... I'm sorry. No word?"

I merely shake my head, sadness gripping me now that I've allowed feelings back in through the uniform.

"I miss him," she whispers.

"Me too," I admit, very quietly. 

"And I hate him, for doing this to you, to us, and I hate myself for feeling that way but I can't help it. You have been _dead_ for years, dying day by day, and... it's not him looking at it, it's me!"

She really does love me. Why does this come as such a surprise?

"Me too," I admit even more quietly, screwing my eyes shut. "But I love him too. And it hurt every day not knowing where he was, if he was still alive. Hurt so bad, so dull, that it took away everything else until I had to start shutting it off just to be able to function. But in order not to feel pain I had to feel nothing at all until I was just this... this damaged shell, going through the motions." The words, confessions, spill out, and I wish I could still cry.

"But now... now I feel again, was forced to, and I can't stop, and it's all flowing out. All the love and warmth I could... couldn't show you or anyone, all the pain... I feel... I feel like I'm drowning, choking, like this new heart of mine is bursting..." 

"Where are you, and how fast can I get there?"

"You have your duties, you can't..." Who am I kidding? I want her here. I need her here.

"With all due respect, Admiral, fuck you," she says, kindly.

She's going to hate me in a moment.

"If you're at home it will take you about an hour."

"What? You're _here_?! And you didn't let me know? You're staying in a mynoc-infested hotel rather than at my place?"

"I... I'm sorry, Mission," I choke out, wanting to laugh at her indignation, only managing to cry without tears.

"Don't move. And that's an _order_. I'll be there soon. You tell your people that you are taking a sick day and their ceremonies will have to take place without you! And if you don't feel up to it, I will inform them as soon as I get there! And don't you dare hide back behind that shell of yours. I need you too."

With that the connection is shut, and I'm left alone with my new fragile self.

I stagger back until I meet a seat and sit down, burying my face in my hands. I have no doubt that Mission would fearlessly face my minions and hosts, to protect me from even that unpleasantness. Why didn't I let her save me sooner?

Sounds at the door force me to widen my focus outwards. Can't be Mission yet.

"Admiral? We need to... Are you ill? What's wrong?"

"Nothing...everything... I'm not... up to this right now, Lieutenant."

"We will postpone the ceremony, then." Efficient as ever. "I will escort you to the medbay, now."

"No. I don't need that. I'm... expecting a visitor. I don't want to be disturbed until she gets here."

No curiosity. I've trained this one well.

"Very well, I'll see to it. May I inquire..."

"Mission Vao is the only one who will be allowed into my room, is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

Great. 

Well, Morrie, isn't it ironic. I seem to come back to life on the anniversary of your death. How screwed up is that.

I pace the floor, thinking how fortunate for me to have my breakdown (for it is a breakdown, albeit a very controlled one) in the base that is Mission's home these days. If I would have to wait for days for her to arrive to save me... or did I shatter just because I knew it was safe, that there was someone to pick up the pieces?

Far sooner than I had expected, there's a chime at the door, and before I know it, I'm being hugged by a blue whirlwind.

"I just heard! We have to go! There's... Carth, that Exile chick has returned, she's _here_ , maybe she has news!" She's talking the speed of light and it takes me a moment to decipher her meaning. Then...

"The Exile?"

My door is still open, and Mission is tugging me to follow her, when Lieutenant Drase appears by our side, looking apologetic.

"Sir, a situation has arisen that requires your presence after all," he begins.

"Yeah, yeah, the Exile. Good thing I'm all dressed up." I grin at Mission, who grins back.

"The Ex...? Oh, yes, but with her is someone even more important."

I can't help but hope, and I see from Mission's eyes that she's entertaining the same idea.

"Who would that be?" I ask with deceptively calm voice.

"Mandalore, the leader of the Mandalorians."

"Oh joy, Canderous," Mission mutters, and I press her hand warningly, only now noticing I'm still holding it.

My lieutenant has noticed it too, and is pointedly looking at anything else but our joined hands.

"So, am I supposed to take part in some ceremony, or can my daughter come along?" I ask, and just have time to see Mission hurriedly turn her head away before meeting Drase's eyes.

Yes, well, among other firsts, this is the first time I acknowledge our bond in public.

"Purely informal, sir," Drase simply says, even though I could bet there are some questions in his mind. 

We reach the hangar where a group of people has gathered in front of the ship I know so well. The Ebon Hawk looks a bit worse for wear but the mere sight of her is enough to make me grasp Mission's hand again. 

The Exile, too, looks a little older, a little more scarred, and a figure in full Mandalorian battle armour is standing protectively by her shoulder. He doesn't speak while she explains her presence to the high and mighty of the Base.

My attention, however, is drawn to a hooded figure standing by the Hawk, some ten metres behind the others. No official is paying any attention to him. Don't they realise who he is? Can't they sense the presence of all that power?

I let go of Mission's hand, walking slowly towards to figure, ignoring my lieutenant's shout, the wild gestures from my hosts, and a greeting from Canderous. All I see is the man in a dark robe, slowly starting to walk towards me. 

He sheds his hood, and I hear Mission gasp behind me. Daren has never looked more like Revan than at this moment.

He looks exactly like he did when he walked away from us. His brown hair hangs around his face, not quite reaching his chin, and he doesn't look a day older. There is not one scar or blemish on his skin to mark the passage of time.

He looks as beautiful, as handsome, as anything I have ever seen. We reach each other and stop, not quite touching. Then he raises his hand to touch my face softly, as if cataloguing the wrinkles and scars, counting the years from my countenance. He traces the outline of my visor but does not yet realise the meaning of it.

"Forgive me," he whispers, and we are in each other's arms, kissing like all those years ago. All the love, passion, tenderness, all on display. This is what I stayed alive for, this kiss.

Then he lets go, to look at me again, and I feel like he sees every scar, every bit of metal in my body, and his eyes are filled with tears he will never let escape.

I hold him close, and then Mission is there, hugging us both, and finally I notice the sounds all around us. Cheering. A sharp whistle that sounds very familiar. Canderous. 

I grin, let Daren go, and turn to acknowledge the Exile, Mandalore, the officials, the crowd, but all I want to do is get my returned man to myself for five minutes to ask where we stand. 

They joy of seeing him is now shadowed by the anger and feeling of betrayal I have carried with me for years, and only Mission seems to understand this. She doesn't move from my side for a second, and I meet her gaze every now and then, just to ground me. 

Finally it is over, and the Jedi have refused to elaborate on their quest or its success. I know they were successful. Revan wouldn't have returned otherwise. And that's enough for me for now.

We walk towards my quarters, the three of us, no one finding words for what needs to be said. Mission walks us to the door, then turns to leave. One last look on Daren before she turns to me.

"I'll be around if you need me, dad," she says, the first sign of her resentment towards Revan, who looks so unaffected by the long absence. A warning to not hurt me again. I smile at her, and we both seem unwilling to dwell on the fact that it was the first time she ever called me that. But it sounds so right and natural I don't believe it was anything else than a slip.

"I... I'll be fine, now. Because of... this morning, I can deal with everything, now." I smile. And I mean it. Had Revan returned yesterday, I might have broken down. Or let my coldness drive him away, too. I'm not sure he would have been able to dig through my armour, weary as he must be after everything he has gone through .

Daren looks at me quizzically after I close the door after her, and at the trace of humour my anger flares. 

"I almost ate my blaster this morning," I tell him, savagely, my need to hurt him, to get through his serene form making me come clean, when I haven't even told Mission that. She knew without telling, of course. Knew, and blamed Daren for it.

He flinches, as if I'd hit him.

"I've been dying for a long time now," I continue, with a little gentler tone, seeing that I managed to hurt him.

"And I finally felt like there was nothing left. No reason to go on being an empty, cold, _old_ shell. But first my son, and then my daughter made me... feel again."

"I'm glad you've had them there for you," he whispers, and I yell, so angry now, "I didn't _let_ them be there!"

"Having loved and lost and loved and lost, I didn't dare let anyone close! Do you know... do you know how long it has been since anyone has addressed me by my first name?"

Part of me knows I'm being selfish and unreasonable, he has endured who knows what over these years, and I make it only about my pain.

But the galaxy is saved now, do I rate something _now_?

"You kept me alive," he whispers, eyes closed, "The kiss we shared just now kept me alive, living to experience that. I'm... sorry I hurt you. I couldn't... I couldn't tell you I was going or I wouldn't have had the strength to leave you behind! I _love_ you, Carth Onasi. And if you don't know the magnitude of that... I chose _light_ for you. I saved the galaxy for you. And I left... so that you might live..."

My anger is gone, as soon as it came, and I whisper desperately, "but I have had no life without you."

I raise my arms, and he's by me in a flash. Force enhanced movement just to get close to me. I hold him close, and feel his heart rate pick up. Mine is even as ever, and he rests his hand over the synth organ.

"What happened?" he asks, meeting my eyes through the visor, gasping, realising the extent of my injuries as I remove the tinted shade covering my new eyes.

"Thermal detonator. I was lucky. Zaalbar was fast enough to... but then he went after the assassin droid. He..."

"He is not dead, tell me he is not dead." He's holding my uniform front so tight I fear the material will rip.

"No," I reassure him. "Though for the longest time he wished he was. He's back at Kashyyyk now. The Wookiees have no problems following a one-legged chieftain."

"His life-debt is paid. That must mean something for him."

I frown.

"Didn't you ever wonder why he didn't follow me? I asked him to... look after my mate instead."

Violent sobs wreck my body, outlet denied. He rests a gentle hand on my face, and I feel the Force flowing through the damaged tissue... stronger than anything I've ever felt before, even from him.

And I cry, the tears flowing from my eyes for the first time in years, and... and I... my eyes... 

"What's happened to you?" I gasp, the power he wields must have multiplied over the years.

"I... It was bad. I needed to... learn, be stronger. I wasn't without my own scars but... one day I could heal them. Heal everything. You have no idea what I've seen..." he lets his voice drift into silence, and I blink, adjusting to my new vision, not letting him look away from my eyes. 

"Then give me that idea. Tell me."

"One day. Not... now. Now I... need to forget. Please."

My heart flutters. My... heart...

"I cannot build new. But I can repair what is broken. Tell me... can I _heal_ your heart? Was it too much? Was it too long?"

I see the fear in his eyes. He's Revan, he's more powerful than ever... and I hold this power over him. 

"I love you," I say quietly, awed by my own meaning to him. "It wouldn't hurt so much if I didn't."

"Can you... forgive me?" he asks almost diffidently, and I wonder, 'for what?' For doing what you thought was right? For saving us all from who knows what? For doing that by almost sacrificing everything that you hold dear? For hurting me by doing all that?

"Is the galaxy safe now?" I ask, pulling him closer to me again.

He smiles slightly. "For now."

"Are you home to stay?" I lean closer, almost touching my lips to his.

"Yes, the next crisis will be someone else's responsibility."

"Then... yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes, I forgive you. But you might have to work a little more on Mission. That daughter of mine is quite protective of her old man." I grin, feeling decades younger.

Daren laughs with me, then hugs me close so tight I fear for my ribs.

"Had you been the price for my success I... would have had to take it," he confesses quietly, and I knew that, and never really held it against him. "But I wished so terribly... You kept me alive," he says again.

"And just when I thought I couldn't go on, a face from my past brought me a word from you, and I gained new strength. Only the idea of you waiting for me kept me going, kept me sane, kept me strong."

"I wouldn't have... taken my life," I whisper against his cheek. "No matter how old, how cold, how bitter, how lonely... as long as I could cling to the hope of one day seeing you again, I wouldn't ever have done anything to rid myself of that possibility."

My words bring the tears flowing down his high cheekbones for the first time since I've known him, and we hold on to each other with desperate strength. 

After what must be half an eternity at least, we move to the bed, shedding my dress uniform and his travel clothes on the way. Still, this is not time for sex but closeness. I need to feel his skin on mine, so that all of my senses can agree – he has been returned to me.

We lie in bed, holding each other, and he heals my scars one by one. Those on my skin, those in my mind. And I feel the healing in him as well. We kiss occasionally, exchange meaningless words that mean the world, and fall asleep in each other's arms.

In the morning I feel... young. I feel fierce joy, holding him. I feel alive.

And now we both seem to agree that it's the time for desire.

After the stars have realigned themselves I get up, and, glancing at the mirror note that my face is less lined and my eyes are alive.

Daren smiles at me, holds my hand, and makes the calls he needs my strength to endure.

Bastila, Zaalbar. Mission.

Master Shan resembles a Padawan more than a master as she weeps. Daren promises her the whole story when they next meet. No date is agreed on, and he doesn't let go of my hand once during the entire conversation.

Zaalbar we can't reach. According to his mate in the village he's down in the Shadowlands doing some 'hands-on chieftaining' as Daren translates the brief message.

Mission we see no reason to tackle virtually when she's so close, so I invite her to my quarters. She looks at my changed appearance, and smiles slightly, but the smile disappears when she meets Daren's eyes. 

"Mission... I'm sorry..." he begins, and a part of me hates us for making him go through this. To apologise for being our hero. But the fact that he did the right thing doesn't mean it didn't have its victims. And I need to let them sort this out on their own. 

They stare at each other quietly, then my Twi'lek girl closes her eyes, and whispers through tears. "You didn't see him over these years..."

She wipes the tears away angrily. "I _know_ what you went to do must have been huge, huger than I can ever imagine, and better so... but... How can this world have any meaning if he had to die for it?"

"I left... for him, for you. The Jedi are not supposed to love just one person. We... they... are supposed to love everyone and everything in the universe equally, to want to protect everything. I have never felt so. I only cared about saving the world so that those I love could live. So fragile is my bond to the light side," he lets out a humourless little laugh, then sobers up again. 

He's talking to me and Mission both, now, his eyes travelling over both of us in turn.

"I knew I... hurt you by leaving, but I couldn't stay when I saw the danger, when I remembered I could end it. But I couldn't stay and explain because... I wouldn't have been strong enough to leave you behind. And ... and had I not, you would have died. I... I am selfish. I'd rather have you alive and in pain than dead. Because had I not known you were back here, I wouldn't have had strength to go on. It was... bad. One day I will perhaps tell you about it. One day... one day when you can look at me without the fear I'm going to disappear any second."

Mission closes her eyes tightly, as if trying to keep more tears from flowing, and whispers, "the stories and legends never tell about the pain for those the great heroes have to leave behind to be heroic."

"I'm not a hero, Mission. I was the bad guy, too. Now... Can I just be a guy?"

She snorts back a laugh and meets his eyes. "Yeah, Mr. SuperJedi, that'll work."

Then they are laughing, and hugging, and even though nothing is settled, the most important things are. 

Mission turns serious soon, and asks whether I have told Daren about Zaalbar. And wonders whether the Wookiee has to return to hang around again, because of the life debt.

Daren shakes his head.

"The Wookiee life-debt extends on the family of the... well, in this case, me. And I asked Zaalbar to protect my life for me. My mate. Because I would have no life without him."

Mission stares at him, and I can see the softening in her eyes even before the side of her mouth curls up. "So... that makes you my stepdad?"

It' not _that_ funny, really, but we all laugh loud and long. And we heal.

I don't know what will happen. I have given my life to the Fleet, but now I'm done. I don't want to do this – be this – any more. I want my life, thank you.

Daren... I can't really imagine him working with 'Master Shan' in restoring the Order. He's not... if that's what being Jedi is all about, he's not part of it. I'm not saying he's a Sith or anything. But, kinda like Jolee Bindo, he has the skill, the knowledge, but he will not adhere to their Code. And if that means he's not a Jedi... Is he... will he be too dangerous to have outside the confines of the Order? 

I don't know. Right now, I don't care. I have my family with me. Maybe we could reclaim the Hawk that's so conveniently present, and just leave. Maybe go to Kashyyyk, visit Coruscant, see how Telos is doing. Then... then... I don't know. Does it matter? We could be together and just keep flying and never stop. 

Yeah, I think I'd like that.

I'll share my plan with the others later. Ask what they want to do. For now I'm content to laugh and hold them. For ever and ever.

Well, honestly, I'm too old to expect 'forever' anything, really, but at least I have this, him, them, _now_ which is more than I had – or let myself have – yesterday. And however long I get to keep this all, I'll enjoy every moment I am given, and never take it for granted. 

 

the End

**Author's Note:**

> The songs I quote are "For Reasons Unknown" by the Killers and "Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down)" by Nancy Sinatra. For reasons unrelated.


End file.
